Dismal Photographs of Yesterday
by Chevious
Summary: She was the nerdy bookworm that was teased constantly by other students. He was the spiteful man that didn't know the meaning of love. Would she be the girl to teach him? Could their relationship even be possible? Rated T for later content
1. Unfortunate Introductions

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the invention of Ms. J.K. Rowling. I don't own the characters in any way, shape, or form. I do, however, claim Armina Wilkins, her family, random students, and the plot.

**A/N: **So this is the first tweaked chapter in my quest to make my fic HBP compliant. If I hadn't changed the ending I wouldn't have had to fix everything. Thank you everyone who has continued to read this fic, I'm sorry for the insanely lengthy lull in posts. School is beginning to get in the way. To my new readers, thank you for taking the time to read my story. On final note before getting to the story itself, this fic occurs during the sixth book (hence the revision - it was started before it was release for those who don't know).So, without further ado, here is the revised first chapter. Enjoy!

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**Dismal Photographs of Yesterday**

_Chapter 1: Unfortunate Introductions

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Dark thunderheads swirled overhead as Professor Snape entered the Great Hall for dinner. The cracks of lightning were drowned out by the sea of students that filled the room, chattering loudly about meaningless things and feasting on the vast amounts of food before them. Snape sneered as he took his seat beside Professor Flitwick, though he was in no mood for polite conversation.

"Good Evening, Severus," Flitwick chirped, his voice seeming to be annoyingly cheery on this particular evening.

"Flitwick," he mumbled, examining his food.

"You just missed the sorting. It seems like we have another promising group of students this year."

"So it would seem."

He seemed to have gotten the point across; Flitwick sighed and now turned to start up a conversation with McGonagall. Snape ate in silence, pondering the dreadful beginning of term the following day.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the commotion unfolding between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables. A Ravenclaw girl with dull, sandy blonde braids had lost her balance and fallen into the Slytherins behind her as she had attempted to get up. She had lost her elliptical framed spectacles in the tumble, which the Slytherins were now tossing around the table in a childish game of Keep Away.

"Please, give me my glasses back," the girl pleaded as she moved back and forth in the direction of her glasses, only causing their laughter to grow louder. Snape had to admit that the spectacle was mildly amusing, but at the same time, his anger was growing. Memories of his own childhood flashed before his eyes, as his gaze subconsciously flicked to the Gryffindor table.

Snape stood up, dangerously eyeing the Slytherin table. "Mr. Zanth!" he boomed, the amount of authority in his voice causing everyone to freeze. A 7th year Slytherin with neat brown hair now held the wire frames that were the source of amusement. He now looked as if he was going to be ill, his now pallid countenance frozen in a look of horror. "Return the girl's spectacles!"

Without a second thought, the boy tossed the glasses at the small girl. The Ravenclaw placed them on the bridge of her nose and ran from the Hall. Everyone was now staring at Professor Snape, too frightened to move.

"Return to your meals," he growled, sitting back down in his chair. The hall erupted in the clanging of utensils against plates and the thuds of goblets against the tables. Whispering between the students formed a dull roar that seemed to echo off the walls and intensify.

* * *

Armina Wilkins sprinted from the Great Hall toward the library, tears flowing from her aqua blue eyes. It was yet another humiliation to add to her repertoire. She had been picked on since her first year for one reason or another. This instance was no different; it was the same bullies with the same antics. 

"Good Evening, Miss Wilkins," Madame Pince greeted in her usual gruff tone as Armina ran passed her.

Armina ducked between several sets of bookshelves before collapsing onto the floor, leaning her back a shelf of books. It was time to drown her sorrows in knowledge, as she always did.

After wiping the tears from her eyes, she reached out her small hand and pulled a random book from its place before her. She flipped through the frail pages, soaking in the information like a sponge.

"It's so nice to be back," she sighed, grabbing yet another book. This library is so much bigger than the muggle one at home."

Madame Pince appeared at the end of the row, glaring at Armina. She glanced down at her watch than back at Armina before disappearing into another row. Armina knew it was getting late. She did have classes in the morning after all.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts," she muttered to herself. "Another wonderful year of teasing and unhappiness."

With that, she replaced the books she had been reading and made her way back to the Ravenclaw Common Room.

* * *

Snape prowled into his new classroom, a migraine pounding over his left eye, causing the left above it to visibly throb. The students before him looked slightly shocked that he had entered the room, half expecting that Dumbledore's announcement from the previous night had merely been a dream or perhaps even a ruse. However, to their disappointment, they were greatly mistaken. 

He stood erectly before the group, his menacing eyes scanning the worthless and ignorant assembly. His nostrils flared in disgust and his eyebrow twitched in sync with the vein throbbing above it.

"The Dark Arts are more than magic; they are as their title implies: an art. The Dark Arts are a sacred art form that few ever master, though many try. They are a powerful form of magic that can do as little as give you a mild tooth ache to death itself. If you wish to ward off said magic, you will pay attention to everything that is said in this room and never contradict anything I say." He paused, taking slight pleasure in the looks of horror that adorned some of the faces before him. "Now, take out your text books and turn to page ten. Read the entire chapter and begin your first assignment: two scrolls of parchment on the most common spells of dark wizards. I trust that you all know how to cast non-verbal spells. I would not wish to treat seventh years as the preceding year."

He paused, checking to see if he had everyone's full attention. His black, beetle-like eyes scanned the sea of faces before him. Only one was peering down at the desk before it. A mass of blonde braided hair seemed to spill onto the desk to which her nose nearly touched. Her quill scratched across the parchment in front of her at what seemed like record speed. Snape advanced on the girl, lips pursing into a thin line across his face.

Snape cleared his throat loudly, startling the poor girl and causing to jump a few inches off her chair. She looked up at him, frightened eyes twitching back and forth while taking in her surroundings. A great black smudge skewed the freckles that covering the bridge of her nose. A set of elliptical wire frames sat askew on the end of her nose. Using her thin index finger, she pushed the spectacles back up onto the bridge of her small, pointed nose, a pair of surreal aqua blue eyes peering back at him from behind them. It was the Ravenclaw he had defended the previous night.

"I suppose that your tumble last night affected your hearing. May I ask why you were writing in my class when you were not asked to begin?"

"I-I'm s-s-sorry, sir," she stuttered, her voice high pitched and fearful.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "It would be wise to pay attention as opposed to scribbling notes to your peers in this class, Miss---"

"Armina Wilkins, sir," she replied, her voice suddenly small and submissive.

Snape sneered and turned his back to her, striding back to the front of the classroom. "5 points from Ravenclaw for Wilkins' bad judgment and Detention. Perhaps that will teach you to listen."

* * *

A tone sounded, but was muffled by the hurried gather of books and rustling of notes. Snape sat behind his desk in disgust as his students walked past him. He eyed the only remaining student, Wilkins, suspiciously as she rose from her place at the back of the classroom. She picked up her bag, but, by the look of it, lost her balance due to its weight. 

It was like watching a car crash, everything seemed to move in slow motion. She staggered backward slightly and fell into a bookcase full of fragile jars containing disgusting, floating things. Her terror stricken eyes glanced up in time to see several jars rain down on her head. They shattered upon the cold stone floor, covering her in foul smelling liquids. She stood there in the lake of rotting creatures, too stunned to move.

"Wilkins," Snape hissed angrily, a vein above his eye beginning to throb visibly in his forehead.

"I-I'm sorry, sir! It was an accident!" she pleaded, eyes finally turning to gaze at her furious instructor.

"Plan on cleaning this mess up for your detention this evening," he spat, assessing the damage she had inflicted.

"Yes, sir."

"Get out of my sight!"

Armina gathered her soaked bag into her arms and sprinted from the room. Snape stared after her before turning once again to her wake. Offensive scents reached his nostrils, further fueling his hostility toward the stupid girl. He promised himself to make her pay for this error.

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**A/N: **So, chapter one is completed. Don't forget to review. They make me happy and fuel my drive to crank out chapters. Reminder that I am still in school, so frequent updates are most likely non-existent until June. Please be patient. So yeah, go review! On to chapter 2... 


	2. Into the Serpent's Den

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the invention of Ms. J.K. Rowling. I do not own the characters in any way, shape, or form. I do, however, claim Armina Wilkins, her family, random students, and the plot.

**A/N: **Hello again, dear readers. Welcome back to my story. The last chapter served its purpose and introduced my character Armina, now it is time to get to know her a little. If she seems slightly two dimensional at first, please don't flame me about it. Her personality will be revealed over the course of several chapters. So, anyway, onto the chapter! Enjoy!

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**Dismal Photographs of Yesterday**

_Chapter 2: Into the Serpent's Den

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Armina poked distractedly at her kidney pie as she pondered her impending doom, also known as Snape's detention. She worried about how terrible her punishment would be, after all she did eat a hole in the classroom floor with that acidic potion she made. She chewed nervously on her bottom lip as she checked her watch.

"Oh shit!" she cursed, jumping up from the table so quickly she nearly fell over. "I'm going to be late!"

She sprinted out of the Great Hall toward the Defense classroom, tripping quite a few times on the stairs and nearly running into a wall or two as she watched the moments tick away on her watch. _Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! I am so dead!_

She skidded to a halt at the entrance to Snape's classroom. After taking a moment to catch her breath, since she was already late, Armina reached for the doorknob. In her mind, she went over thousands of plausible excuses for her tardiness that would not result in more detentions.

The door swung forward, catching her by surprise. Snape stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyebrows furrowed at the sight of Armina and his dark eyes almost seemed piercing and deadly.

"You're late," he snarled, expression unchanging.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Armina pleaded. "I was caught up in some potions research in the library."

His glance flicked over her, taking in her disheveled appearance. "Come with me."

He turned sharply on his heel and entered the dark room. Armina followed at a safe distance, unsure of how quick-tempered Snape would be. He had been on edge since the night before. His temperament hadn't seemed to improve much.

Snape halted before the his desk, turning to face her once again. "Thanks to your clumsiness, those potions you spilled are eating away at my floor. For the next 3 hours, you will be removing every drop from the floor by hand." With a flick of his wand, a bucket that was filled with a blue solution appeared along with a pair of rubber gloves and a rag. "Don't get either liquid on your skin."

Armina looked at the mass of murky liquid that covered the floor by her desk. It did appear to be eating away at the granite floor. The puddle seemed to have increased in size since that afternoon, growing from the diameter of a bludger to the size of a Snape's desk. Armina looked sheepishly up at Snape, who was once again glaring at her.

"What will happen if they get on my skin?" she asked timidly, eyeing the bucket as she pulled on the yellow gloves.

He stared at her once again, seemingly amused by her ignorance. A slight smirk flicked across his lips, just for a moment. "Your skin will either be eaten away very slowly or it will turn every color known to civilization before beginning to burn and rot. I suggest that you are careful."

Seeing that she was thoroughly terrified, Snape took a seat behind his desk. He began to weed through the pile of essays that he had assigned during his remaining classes due to the mishap that was now being taken care of.

Armina, on the other hand, lowered herself to the floor. Reaching into the icy blue liquid, she dampened her rag and began to scrub the spreading depression in the floor. As she worked, the blue solution began turning green. Concerned and confused, she glanced up at her occupied watchman.

"Excuse me...erm...Professor Snape?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. When he didn't even bother to look up, she spoke a bit louder. "Professor Snape?"

"What is it, Wilkins?" he asked monotony, showing little interest in the fact that she had a question.

"Is it supposed to turn that color?"

Snape rolled his eyes and looked up in annoyance. "Is it green?"

"Yes?"

"Yes, it is. Now back to work."

With that, Armina began to scrub again. After twenty more minutes, she leaned back on her calves for a moment, sighing with relief. Her arms had begun to ache from the effort she was exerting. She wiped her brow with her hand, but immediately realized what she had done.

"Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!" she exclaimed, panic beginning to take hold.

"_What in God's name have you done?_" Snape shouted, glancing up at her from a potions book he had taken to reading.

"Professor Snape! I don't want my skin to turn colors! I don't want it to burn off! I like my skin!" She was beginning to hyperventilate, a panic attack seemingly unavoidable.

Snape's face dropped. "_What did you touch?_" he hissed, jumping up from his place and advancing on this terrified student.

"My—my forehead. _What should I do, Professor?_"

"Hold still, damn it!"

Before she realized it, Snape was examining her forehead. His fingers ran across her skin in several sweeps. His eyes were intense and almost seemed worried, but only for a moment. Armina's breathing slowed, afraid to interrupt him.

"I'll have to call the infirmary," he hissed, returning to his desk.

Snape pulled open one of the side drawers, retrieving a small red pouch. He strode over to the fireplace at the other end of the room and opened the pouch. He poured a mound of gray powder into his palm and tossed it into the hearth. Green flames burst to life as Snape pulled the drawstring shut on the pouch.

"Madame Pomfrey," he called into the flames, "I need your assistance immediately."

An elderly woman dressed in a nurse's uniform stepped from the fire. Her kind face was plagued by urgency and unease. She bustled over to Armina, eyes filling with concern. The woman began to examine her forehead just as Snape had done.

"What happened, Severus?" she inquired, fingers prodding Armina's skin. "Why is her skin turning green?"

"It's turning green?" Armina asked in a panic.

"It came into contact with a strong cleaning potion," Snape answered rather matter-of-factly, ignoring her question completely. "I warned her, but the twit didn't listen."

"It seems to be a minor potion burn, but I'll need to take her back to the Hospital Wing in order to treat it."

"By all means, Madame Pomfrey, but, Wilkins, your detention is not finished. It will resume tomorrow evening. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Armina replied somberly as the elderly nurse led her into the fire.

Within an instant, the pair were standing in the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey sat her down on a bed before disappearing behind the curtain. She reappeared moments later with a tube of magic creme. She began too apply it to Armina's forehead when she noticed her patient's distracted appearance.

"Don't worry, Miss Wilkins. Professor Snape doesn't really know how to interact with people," she explained. "He can come off a bit gruffly now and again, but he really is a good man."

Armina studied the woman's face, not quite sure where this statement had come from. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, don't worry about him," she continued, not seeming to notice her patient's puzzlement. "You could probably relate to him better than anyone."

"What are you talking about, Madame Pomfrey?"

The elderly woman taped a bandage over the burn and smiled warmly. "There you go. All patched up. You can return to your dormitory."

"But...Madame Pomfrey..."

"Off you go!"

Madame Pomfrey shooed her reluctant patient out of the door, leaving her to wonder back to her dormitory, lost in thought. _What had she been going on about? Why did she act so interested about my reactions to Professor Snape?

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**A/N:** Quite obviously our dear, hopelessly idiotic Armina doesn't know what she's getting herself into. Well then, I suppose you will all find out in the next chapter. Review please! Writer's like feedback.


	3. A Strange Fascination

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the invention of Ms. J.K. Rowling. I do not own the characters in any way, shape, or form. I do, however, claim Armina Wilkins, her family, random students, and the plot.

**A/N:** Thank you guys so much for your reviews. I'm very happy that so many have read and, hopefully, enjoyed. So, onto more pressing matters. Chapter Three continues to build the relationship between Armina and Severus. Hope you enjoy!

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**Dismal Photographs of Yesterday**

_Chapter 3: A Strange Fascination

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Armina entered Snape's classroom, extremely early this time, ready for her detention. The burn on her forehead at nearly disappeared, but Madame Pomfrey had insisted that she keep it bandaged for at least one more day. She had now began to mess with her bangs, attempting to hide the wound in order to ward off any teasing for her stupidity.

Snape sat behind his desk, as he usually did, seemingly engrossed in a book. He looked up as she entered the classroom, but did not move. Armina stopped before his desk, anticipating a lecture about last night's incident.

"Good Evening, Professor," she greeted hesitantly as she pushed her glasses back up onto the bridge of her freckled nose.

"You're early," he stated simply, not looking up from his book.

"Yes, sir," she replied, wringing her hand. "I didn't want to make you angry again."

"Indeed." Snape closed his book and placed it in a desk drawer. He glanced back up at her, appearing to be staring her down. "Due to your stupidity and inability to remember simple instructions, you will be scrubbing every inch of this floor with soap and water. Both concoctions were cleaned up shortly after your departure last night, but you will be scrubbing nonetheless. Are my instructions plain enough for your memory and comprehension?"

"Yes, sir," she sighed, looking down at her feet.

"The bucket in over there," he stated, pointing toward the far corner of the classroom. "Get started."

Armina strode over to the bucket and began her job. She finished about half of the room in an hour. She stopped, her back and knees aching from leaning over the cold stone. Crossing her legs in front of her, Armina leaned against the wall opposite Snape, who had commenced grading class work.

"Professor Snape?" she exclaimed, simply wanting to hear something other that silence.

"What is it, Wilkins?" he replied, peering up from the paper he had been reading over.

"Why are you so mean?" she blurted out before she could stop herself. Her hand flew to her mouth so fast, her mouth stung from the impact.

"Pardon?" he hissed, eyes flashing dangerously.

"I mean---you always seem to be in a bad mood----and you are quite harsh when it comes to students---why is that?" Armina realized that she was merely digging a deeper hole then ever necessary. _Oh boy! I have done it now!_

Snape was silent for a moment. No one had ever actually questioned his actions like this. He wasn't quite sure how to answer. He leaned back in his armchair, staring at her in annoyance.

"How is this relevant to your job?" he inquired, setting down his quill.

"It isn't, sir, and I understand if you don't want to talk about it," Armina said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over the room. "I mean, why talk to a stupid girl like me. It's slightly hypocritical anyway. I don't like talking to people either." She smiles. "It makes you feel good sometimes though, you know, just talking."

Snape merely stared at her, the vein beginning to bulge above his eye. Armina took this as hint and retrieved the rag from the soapy water. She got up onto her knees and began to scrub the dingy stone once again.

"I am easily annoyed by students," he stated, taking her by surprise. Armina sat up and gawked at Snape. She hadn't actually expected an answer to her question. "They are all ignorant and judgmental. They pick on the visibly weak and praise those who are visibly stronger. It annoys me. Are you satisfied?"

She smiled. "Doesn't that make you feel better, Professor?"

"Actually, it makes you seem more annoying than you already are." Snape took up his quill and began to scribble grades upon papers and in a book beside them. Armina hadn't budge, expecting him to criticize her work on the floor. "Are you finished?"

"No, Professor," she sighed, picking up her rag again.

Snape peered up every now and then to check on her progress. About an hour later, Armina threw the rag done in her bucket triumphantly. She stood and carried it over to Snape's desk and awaited further instruction.

"I'm finished, Professor Snape," she exclaimed, thinking of the warm bed awaiting her in Ravenclaw dormitory.

Snape glanced up, irritation quite visible on her face. "Are you, now?"

"Yes, sir," she answered with a smile.

"Why are you so happy?" he questioned, becoming increasingly irked by her presence.

"I've finished my detention, haven't I?"

Snape surveyed her work. "Yes, yes. You may go now," he replied, waving her away with a flick of his wrist.

Armina turned and headed for the staircase. "Good night, Professor," she chirped. "I hope you have a better day tomorrow."

Snape stared after her. What was it about that girl that made him want to kill someone? Why was she so cheerful? He shook away these thoughts and retired, slightly more confused then he had ever been.

* * *

"What do you know about Professor Snape?" Armina asked Cho Chang as she entered breakfast the next morning.

"Excuse me?" Cho replied, looking around to see who was watching them.

"What do you know about Professor Snape?" she repeated.

"Only that he is the most hated professor ever. Why do you want to know?"

"He fascinates me." Armina smiled, and stood from her place. "Do you know anybody that would have information on him?"

Cho eyed her suspiciously. "I suppose Miss Know-It-All, Hermione Granger, could tell you something. I suppose there isn't a single fact that she doesn't know." The sarcasm the dripped from every word made her feelings toward Hermione obvious. "Why don't you go talk to her?"

"Thank you, Cho. Where can I find her?"

Cho looked about, searching the Great Hall. She pointed toward the Gryffindor table and turned back to Armina. "She's over there."

"Thank you!"

Armina rushed over to the far table, looking for Hermione. She spotted the bushy haired Gryffindor towards the middle. She sat beside a red haired boy and seemed to be involved in a conversation with the dark hair bloke across from her.

"Pardon me, Hermione," she greeted as she took a seat beside the brunette who seemed surprised by her appearance.

"Yes?" she replied, flashing a friendly, but uncertain smile.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I was told that you could help me." Armina removed a notepad and pen, the only writing utensil other than a quill that she had brought to Hogwarts, from her messenger bag, ready to take notes.

"What is it you need help with?"

"I was wondering what you could tell me about Professor Snape?"

Hermione looked at her, seeming intrigued by her question. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything you can tell me."

"Well, I honestly don't know much of any importance. Why do you ask?"

"I want to learn more about him."

"Interesting," she replied. "I'm sorry that I can't help you."

"I can," said the boy across from them. Armina glanced over at him and immediately recognized the scar upon his forehead.

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "You're Harry Potter!"

She gawked at him for a moment. She had never actually met Harry in person, but had heard of his actions through gossip. Seeing that she had been making him uncomfortable, Armina immediately reverted her eyes back to her note pad.

"I'm so sorry! I don't mean to stare," she apologized.

"It's all right," he replied. "So, you want to know about Snape, right?"

"Yes, everything you know."

Harry stood up. "I'd rather not talk about it hear." He turned to the pair he had been sitting with. "I'll see you guys later."

"Okay, Harry," the red haired boy replied. "I'll catch you in Potions."

Harry waved to his friends and lead Armina out of the castle onto the grounds. The sky was overcast, and a slight breeze was causing the lake's surface to ripple. The sat down beside it and Armina retrieved her note pad.

"Okay, Harry. What do you know?"

"More than I wish to," he sighed, looking out over the lake. "He didn't have the best time here when he was a kid. He was picked on quite a bit, especially by my father." He paused and gazed at Armina who was furiously taking down every word, biting her lips in concentration. She stopped when she noticed his stare. "He was sort of the loner type. Didn't seem to like people. I guess this made him seem odd to most people and he was viewed as an easy target."

"I see," she uttered, pushing her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose.

"I remember Sir---I mean Professor Lupin once said that he was often off playing with a chemistry set. He also said Snape had a fascination with the Dark Arts. Let's just say he ran into some trouble with them after her left school. Everyone was quite surprised that he got the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, especially me."

"Interesting! Anything else, Harry?"

"That's all I've got," he said with a shrug. "Why do you want to know about Snape anyway?"

"He fascinates me! He's quite an intriguing individual. I think I can relate to him."

"Good luck with that. Sorry I couldn't be of more help."

"Thank you, Harry. You helped a great deal. Is there anyone else who could possible give me information."

"Other than Snape, no." Harry stood and began to walk away. "See you around."

"Goodbye, Harry."

She looked back down at her notes. _I have to know more_, she thought determinedly._ I have to understand him. I don't completely understand why, but I feel like I should.

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_

**A/N:** A fascination, eh? Hmm...a fascination? Anyway, please review. Suggestions are always welcome. Thank you to everyone who helped me to fix my original error in Chapter One, the house switching was thoroughly embarrassing. A special thanks to Miss Sunkist for being such a wonderful reviewer. Remember to review. Reviews make me happy and it is extremely depressing to see my hits continue to go up and not my review count.


	4. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the invention of Ms. J.K. Rowling. I do not own the characters in any way, shape, or form. I do, however, claim Armina Wilkins, her family, random students, and the plot.

**A/N: **Yay! Chapter 4 has been fixed. SO, Armina is digging up information on Snape, is she? Well, maybe someone should teach her a lesson, eh? Enjoy!

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**Dismal Photographs of Yesterday**

_Chapter 4: Curiosity Killed the Cat

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"Did you hear about that weird Wilkins girl?" one Hufflepuff girl asked her friend during Potions. Snape was walking around examining everyone's classwork, catching bits of the conversation.

"No, I haven't," said the other.

"Well," she began, leaning across the aisle, "it seems that she's been going around asking everyone what they know about Snape."

Snape's ears perked up at the mention of his name and began listening a little better_. What could that blasted girl be up to now?_

"Really?"

"Yeah, she confronted Cho Chang and Harry Potter just the other day. They say she's been asking every single seventh year for any information on him."

"Why would she want to know about Snape?"

"Well, I hear she fancies him!"

"No way!" said the Gryffindor girl sitting behind them. The pair of Hufflepuffs leaned in closer. "I was right there when she was talking to Harry. She sounded like he was a specimen from Care of Magical Creatures. She wanted to know _everything._"

"She is so strange," said one of the Hufflepuffs.

Snape had heard enough. His temper began to flare as he made his rounds, annoyance coursing through his veins. _Is that twit trying to piss me off? If she is, she has succeeded._ Snape returned to the front of the room, his anger reaching its breaking point.

"When you have completed your work, place it on my desk," he instructed, attempting to keep his voice level. "I'll be in my office. Class ends in five minutes. If there are not seventeen sets of book work on my desk in four minutes, the missing ones will fail. There will be a test in the morning."

With that, Snape disappeared into the adjoining room and slammed the door. He paced a bit, contemplating how to handle the situation at hand. He could ignore the problem, but she didn't seem to realize who she was dealing with. _She needs to be taught a lesson_, he decided.

* * *

Armina entered Snape's classroom with the rest of the 7th years later that day. Snape lounged in his armchair, elbows resting on the arms and fingers entwined in front of his mouth. The students took their seats cautiously, eyeing Snape suspiciously.

"I hope you all are prepared for a little exam," he hissed, rising from his place and beginning to slowly pace before the class. A collective sigh escaped from the lips of everyone in the room. "I will ask one person one question. If that person answers incorrectly, points will be deducted from their house and they will receive a detention. As for the rest of you, everyone will be enjoying a wonderful essay on said question. Shall we begin?"

He inspected the expression on everyone's faces, attempting to catch them off guard. He stopped in front of a Slytherin girl whose dark hair was pulled back in a bun. He stared her down for a few moments and she looked as if she was about to have a heart attack. Thoroughly amused by her reaction, Snape continued to pace.

"Miss Wilkins!"

Armina froze. Potions was her worst class and she could never remember anything on the spot. Her hands began to shake in her lap. Everyone would dislike even more after she had personally assigned them an essay. _This can't be happening!_

"Yes, Professor Snape?" she replied, voice shaking slightly.

"What potion is commonly used into the exorcism of banshees?"

Her mouth dropped slightly in amazement. She knew the answer! She had read it in her Care of Magical Creatures textbook over the summer. She smiled triumphantly as she cleared her throat.

"Well, sir," she began as everyone watched her with baited breath, hoping that she wouldn't screw it up, "It's the Likrata Potion."

"Correct," Snape hissed with slight annoyance. "What are the four main ingredients and what are its other uses?"

"What is it made out of?" she asked herself aloud, chewing nervously on her index fingernail in an attempt to concentrate. She probed her memories, going over the information she had read in the book. "Likrata Potions are made out python scales, powdered spider fangs, dragonfly wings, and a bit of mandrake root. It can also be used as a strong household pest killer and can act as a protection spell."

Snape was stunned. His plan had backfired, only making him more irritated. Why did she make him so crazy? Snape scowled in defeat and returned to the board. Everyone was now eyeing him with great anticipation. Some even looked as if they were awaiting a final plea before their execution.

"It appears that Miss Wilkins has saved you all from some rather lengthy homework," Snape snarled, followed by a mass sigh of relief. "Turn to page three hundred twenty three. Read the section on defense against strong, unwelcome spells and make a list of the names, effects of the spell, and the defensive spell."

Rather pleased with herself, Armina opened her textbook, humming victoriously as she worked. The class period seemed to fly by without an incident. When she finished the list, she approached Snape's desk and placed it on top of the large pile formed by her classmates.

The tone sounded and the sound of everyone gathering their things echoed deafeningly off the dungeon walls. Armina gathered her stack of books and began to leave with the crowd of seventh years filing out of the room.

"Wilkins," Snape exclaimed, irritation now evident in his voice.

Armina turned and approached his desk. "Yes, Professor?"

"May I have a word with you?"

"Of course, sir, but I really need to get to Arithmancy. Can you make it quick?"

"Professor Vector will understand."

Snape seated himself and took up the position he was in upon her arrival. He was silent for a few moments, fabricating his exact words. He leaned forward and rested his hands on his desk.

"I have heard that you have been doing a little research."

"Have you?" she asked stupidly, looking down at her feet.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you that curiosity killed the cat?"

"I don't believe so, sir."

"For your efforts, you have earned yourself another detention."

"Yes, sir."

"Fifty points will also be taken from Ravenclaw."

"But Professor!" she shouted boldly. "That's completely unfair!"

Snape glared at her, positively irate by her sudden outburst. "Life is unfair, Miss Wilkins!" he exclaimed, voice rising with every word. "One must learn to deal with it!"

"I am not one of the kids that used to pick on you, Professor Snape! You shouldn't treat other people like this!"

Snape was taken aback. He stared at her in slight confusion, unsure of how to react. _Where had that come from? _His eyebrows furrowed and a sneer crossed his lips.

"This is _my_ classroom, Miss Wilkins, and I will not _tolerate_ such insubordination!"

Armina fell silent, realizing the extent of her rare assertiveness. She looked at her feet once again, examining the dirt on her black Mary-Janes. She had gone to far, and now it was time to pay the piper.

Snape's eyes flashed angrily, almost daring her to speak further. "Detention! Care for a third?"

"No, sir," she replied submissively. "I'm sorry, Professor."

"As you should be! Be here after dinner for you first detention!"

"Yes, sir."

Armina withdrew from the classroom, thoroughly defeated and disheartened. As she made her way to Professor Vector's room, she couldn't help but wonder why she wasn't upset about detention. She had never received a detention in her life before this point, yet she had earned three (four if you count the first's continuance) in the first few days of the term. What more could go wrong?

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**A/N: **Thank you for reading my story and for your reviews. I would like to see my review counter climb with my hits, so feel free to give some constructive criticism. It is always welcome. On to chapter five... 


	5. What a Peculiar Girl

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the invention of Ms. J.K. Rowling. I do not own the characters in any way, shape, or form. I do, however, claim Armina Wilkins, her family, random students, and the plot.

**A/N: **So, loads of late night editing went into the revision of these chapters. I hope that the story will be to your liking. It took me a while to fix everything. All in all, not much changed, but the small changes add up and make my new ending make sense.Now, onto the fic!

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**Dismal Photographs of Yesterday**

_Chapter 5: What a Peculiar Girl...

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_

Armina entered the defense room for the second time that day, the fourth time since the start of term nearly a week ago in order to serve a detention. Her body ached with the memory of her first two. She imagined having to scrub the walls or the fireplace this time as she entered the strode across the classroom.

Snape emerged from his office in a particularly bad mood. It only intensified when he caught sight of Armina. He scowled in vexation and dropped a rather large stack of folders that he had been carrying onto her desk.

"Good Evening, Professor," she greeted with a weak smile. "How are you on this lovely evening?"

"Annoyed," he simply stated. "Since you enjoy information so much, Wilkins, it seemed only proper to give you the task of filing my old records."

"I can hardly wait," she uttered under her breath.

"Everything is on that desk over there, plus this stack here." He indicated the stack before him and pointed to the table behind her. Several stacks of folders were arranged messily upon it. "File the papers according to year, class, and grade. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she said automatically, surveying the work at hand.

Snape's eyebrow raised slightly, curious about her reaction. She almost seemed thrilled to be doing his job. It was almost disturbing how hard she was concentrating as she began on the first stack of folders. He watched nonchalantly with slight interest. He hadn't heard of anyone, let alone knew someone, who seemed to enjoy paperwork.

Armina's eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as she separated the stacks of paper. Though she was consciously forcing herself to concentrate on sorting, her mind kept drifting over to Snape, whom she had noticed was keeping an unusually close eye on her. _Maybe he thinks I'll paper cut myself to death if I'm not careful_, she thought with slight amusement.

"Do you like this sort of thing," he asked finally, curiosity getting the best of him.

"Pardon?" she replied, not glancing up from her work.

"Do you like organizing things?"

"I'm slightly obsessive about it," she answered, laughing slightly. "I can't stand not being able to find anything. I take it you aren't a neat freak."

"Not exactly, no."

She smirked. "That's quite interesting. I'll have to make note of that."

Snape scowled. "Why are you so interested in me?"

Armina looked up, a broad smile now adorning her lips. "That's quite simple, Professor. I can relate to you and it fascinates me. Never in my life have I been able to relate to anyone. It's nice. That's all."

"I see." He was silent for a few moments, observing her progress. "Why is that?"

"My, my! Don't you seem interested now?" she joked, sliding the first completed stack into its correct folder. "You see, Professor Snape, I'm not exactly a very liked person. I am a social outcast because I enjoy knowledge. People think I am odd, and their ignorance can be irritating. However, instead of fighting back, I simply ignore my issues and move on. This is how I can relate to you, sir."

"I see," he muttered, actually taking in her little speech.

Armina just smiled and returned to her work, not expecting any further questioning. She moved onto her next folder and scattered the documents all around her. Snape continued to watch her, not even bothering to hide it now.

"What is it that you were looking for, Wilkins?"

She looked up in amazement. "Looking for, sir?"

"What information were you looking for during your research?"

"Anything I could find, sir," she answered timidly, anticipating further scolding. "I just wanted to get to know someone."

She worked in silence for the next two hours. Snape began to watch her as nonchalantly as he could, taking in the subtleties of her personality as she worked. He noticed that she habitually twirled loose strands of hair that had escaped her twin braids about her index finger. She chewed on her lip as a nervous habit. She even chewed on her nails as she worked. _What a peculiar girl._

He was being to understand what she had been up to. He knew that they could relate to each other, as she had made very clear. However, common sense and the student-teacher factor scolded him for even thinking of getting to know this troublesome, nosy student.

"When can I go, Professor Snape?" Armina asked, now over half way through the stacks of paperwork she had been assigned.

"What?" he asked, looking up from the assignments of that day.

"When will I able to leave?" She curled her fingers, working the sore joints.

Snape surveyed her completed work than what was left to be done. "You may finish it tomorrow."

"Really, Professor?" she exclaimed happily, eyes lighting up at the thought of going to bed.

"_Did I stutter?_"

"No, sir."

"I didn't think so. Now get out of my sight."

"Thank you, sir!" She jumped up from her place on the cold stone floor. "Good night, Professor Snape!"

She disappeared from sight as she mounted the stairs. Snape glanced up again, and slight smile flicked across his lips, but it was gone in an instant. _What a peculiar girl. _He looked at the stacks of organized folders and scowled_. How I despise her, and yet slightly intrigued.

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_

**A/N: **Very peculiar indeed. Strange turn of events. Is Snape's frozen heart beginning to melt? Well, I suppose you will just have to keep reading now, won't you? Don't forget to review!


	6. An Attack On The Wall

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the invention of Ms. J.K. Rowling. I do not own the characters in any way, shape, or form. I do, however, claim Armina Wilkins, her family, random students, and the plot.

**A/N:** So, yeah, more late night writings of the insomniac that is Chevious. Aren't you all thrilled? Not so much? Okay then. Anyway, hope you like chapter six. There is a bit more Snape/Armina bonding, in that odd Snape-ish way. Enjoy!

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**Dismal Photographs of Yesterday**

_Chapter 6: An Attack on the Wall

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_

Armina sat on the cold stone of the classroom floor, finishing the filing from the night before. She had been at it for nearly an hour and was several folders away from finishing. Snape lounged in his armchair, _History of the Dark Arts_ propped against the edge of his desk. He glanced up casually here and there to check on her progress.

"Professor Snape?" she piped up, continuing to stare at her work.

"What is it, Wilkins?" he replied monotony, turning to the next page in his book.

She gazed up at him inquisitively. "Why are you so into the Dark Arts?"

Snape glanced up emotionlessly. "As my life seems to _fascinate_ you, it fascinates me."

"What is so fascinating about evil magic?"

"Why do you ask so many questions? _Aren't you supposed to be sorting?_"

"Yes, sir." Armina looked back down at the papers before her, but her inquisition did not cease. "You just seem like the type that would use that kind of magic on a daily basis. That's all."

Snape's eyebrow raised. "How is that?" he spat, wondering exactly what information she had gotten on him.

"You know, you're the dark, sinister type. You kind of have the vampire look going on. You're always grumpy and spiteful. Add that to a nasty little childhood, and I'd say that you'd even be Death Eater material." Armina laughed, but Snape tried his best to remain emotionless. Did she actually know, or was she making a joke? "Yeah! I could see you following You-Know-Who around."

"Why _are _you so annoying?" Snape's eyebrows furrowed. "_Get to work._ _You should have been finished by now._"

"Sorry, Professor," she apologized, silencing her laughter immediately. Her face grew very serious and concentration flooded her eyes. "I'll finish in no time."

Snape looked down at his book once again, but never really read a word upon the page. His curiosity had been struck and he wished to investigate further, but he was attempting to teach a lesson about such curiosity. It would be extremely hypocritical of him to ask his own questions. He tried to think of ways to extract such information without seeming interested.

"Do you have any family, Professor?"

"Will you shut up if I answer you?"

"Yes, sir."

"My parents are dead now and I have no siblings. So, the answer would be no."

"That's sad, Professor. I couldn't imagine life without my family. My real dad left my mom when I was seven. I live with her and my step-dad, Gavin, just outside London. My sister Acacia still lives with us too; she goes to a University in Wales during the school year though. I have half sisters too! Belisma is four and Sophie is eight."

"Did I ask for a detailed family tree?" A vein above his eye was beginning to throb painfully.

"But their all muggles," she continued, seemingly unfazed by his question. "My little sisters can be such a handful too! They are so energetic that they wear me out within an hour. My mom and step-dad are always working during the summer, so I have to watch them. Mom works at home during the school year though so she doesn't have to leave Belisma and Sophie with a sitter."

"_Honestly, girl! Do you ever stop talking?" _he spat, the throbbing in his forehead intensifying with every word that came out of her mouth. Snape's anger swelled in his chest, causing every word to reek of anger and hatred.

"I'm sorry, sir. Am I annoying you?"

"_What do you think?_"

"I'm sorry, sir. I won't say another word."

"_Thank you!_"

An awkward silence fell between the two. Armina glanced up at her fuming instructor here and there, biting her lip nervously. Snape was staring at his book, angrily flipping the page to look as if he were reading. She took a deep breath, hoping that she would not provoke him any further.

"Professor?" Armina exclaimed after another twenty minutes of sorting.

"_What is it now?_"

"I can't remember how you wanted me to stack the folders."

"_Damn it! Can't you remember anything?_"

Snape rose and stalked toward her. He pushed her aside, and picked up a set of folders. Armina chewed nervously on her fingernail as Snape arranged them for her. When he finished, he shoved the holder into her arms.

"_Class and year! I even made you a model so that you wouldn't forget!_"

"Thank you, Professor," she said sheepishly.

She went to set it back on the table, but tripped clumsily over the box in which she had placed the organized folders. She stumbled slightly before colliding with the table beside her. The newly organized folders flew high into the air, papers completely covering the horrified Armina. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she watched the remaining papers fall into place around her, once again completely disorganized.

"Oh no!" she sighed, stunned and terrified. "Oh no!"

Snape spun around, his expressions changing from irritation to shock to rage. Grabbing Armina by the robes, he lifted her to his eye level. His hooked nose was inches from her own, his black eyes boring into her like hot coals. Armina closed her eyes, ready for the impact of her impeding scolding.

"_There can be no one on this Earth more incompetent than you! You are lucky that I had recorded the grades on these before hand because I anticipated it! This detention is over! Get out of my site before I put a hex on you!_"

Snape practically threw her across the room. She landed, sprawling several rows away, fear clouding her eyes with tears. She scrambled to her feet, slowly backing out of the room. He was staring at her with what seemed like all that hate he had within him.

"_Get out!_" he growled, beginning to advance on her again. "_Get out!_"

Armina screamed and sprinted out of the dungeons. Snape flew to the door and slammed it shut. He stalked downward into the depths of his classroom again, his anger swelling. _That clumsy oaf! How could anyone be so stupid!_

He set his sights on the vials of old potions on a nearby shelf. He raised one of the racks to his eye level and catapulted it toward a seemingly offensive, yet innocent, wall. He stared at the splash of blue liquid that now adorned his wall, anger going into remission. His breathing came in heavy wheezes as his self-control returned.

Snape sighed loudly in defeat and disgust. He ran his hands through his greasy hair and stared at the ceiling. His thoughts were a jumble of emotions and confusion. He glanced back at the potion on the wall, then turned his sights to the ceiling a second time.

"What's wrong with me?" he pleaded with the stones above him. "I've never been so angry with anyone before, not even that worthless Black. _What is it about that child that infuriates me?_"

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**A/N:** Weeeeeeeeeee! spins around in chair it is now officially 12:39am and I have completed the revisions of another chapter. Some random anime on Adult Swim is playing some awesome music that just makes me want to spin around in my chair. Weeeeeeeeee! spins in chair Anywoo, to make sure you're still with me here, its only about a week into Armina's Seventh Year (Harry's 6th for those who didn't quite pay attention to the author's note in the first chapter). Snape seems a bit disturbed, doesn't he? I would want to throw things at this chick too. She is slightly annoying, isn't she? Hope you like the new chapter. Please remember to review. They brighten my day and make me write faster. Please review! 


	7. What is this Feeling?

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the invention of Ms. J.K. Rowling. I don't own the characters in any way, shape, or form. I do, however, claim Armina Wilkins, her family, random students, and the plot.

**A/N:** Now, we're fast forwarding to October, and, from experience, Snape hasn't given Armina anymore detentions. This will be interesting, however, because we are getting more and more involved. Mwahahahaha! (clears throat) Sorry about that. It seemed appropriate. You will see what I mean. Poor tormented little man may make a revelation, or not :). Read on!

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**Dismal Photographs of Yesterday**

_Chapter 7: What is This Feeling?

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_

Snape sat in the Three Broomsticks, solemnly sipping his brew. He stared blankly out the window, imagining all the ways his life could have turned out. Was he being punished for once supporting the dark side? Was this Wilkins child his punishment? Lastly, why was she even brought up in his thoughts?

"Professor!" exclaimed that annoyingly cheerful voice that he was quickly coming to loathe.

Snape looked up to see Armina bustling toward him. Her hands were laden with several bags from various stores. She flashed him a toothy smile, her freckled cheeks rosy from the chill of the October air. She took a seat beside him, placing her bags on the floor.

"What in God's name do you want?" he asked monotony, eyes flicking about to see who was watching.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's my day off."

"Oh! I see. What are you planning on doing today?"

"Getting away from my students was at the top of my list." The vein in his forehead was beginning to throb.

Armina laughed. "Hey! I've got an idea! Why don't you come shopping with me?"

He eyed her precariously. "You _can't_ be serious."

"Of course I am. C'mon, Professor! It's better then just sitting here all day, right?"

"I greatly doubt it."

Before he could object any further, Armina had gathered her bags and was pulling him out of the pub. Snape sighed and put up little resistance, believing his efforts would be futile in the end.

"Let's go up to the Shrieking Shack, Professor! I've never been, and they say its the most haunted place in England."

"Is it, really?" he asked with mock interest. He had been to the Shrieking Shack thousands of times and knew its true secret all too well. In fact, he had nearly been killed by it on several occasions.

Armina dragged him up the hillside, determinedly marching toward their destination. People pushed passed them on their way back down, many students offering a curious look. Snape sneered at them as they went by, wishing that he could stop himself from following her.

"Here we are," she announced as the odd pair came to a halt beside the wire fence that surrounded the Shrieking Shack.

Snape stared at the large building looming ominously in the distance. His eyes narrowed in irritation at the memory of his last visit. He looked over at Armina, who seemed to be enchanted by the dilapidated site of the once grand building.

"Wow!" she breathed, closing her eyes. "It so beautiful."

His eyebrow raised. "What are _you_ looking at?"

"What do you mean?"

Armina peered up at him inquisitively. He hadn't really noticed it before, but she had the most amazing, expressive aqua blue eyes hidden behind the elliptical wire frames that where perched upon her nose; it was like staring at the ocean on the clearest of days.

Wondering what else had evaded his acknowledgement, Snape examined her appearance. Her fair, freckled complexion was well compliment by the sandy blonde locks that spilled over her shoulders. She was about a head shorter than he with a rather petite frame. She wasn't anything spectacular when it came to looks, but her eyes were very alluring. One could easily get lost in them.

"Is something wrong, Professor?"

"What?" Snape snapped back to reality. "What was that?"

"I asked you a question, but you didn't answer me. Then, you were looking at me funny. Is everything all right, sir?"

"Yes, fine."

Armina appeared skeptical, but decided not to argue. She knew all too well how easily his temper could be triggered, and she didn't want to be on the receiving end of it. She looked back at the Shrieking Shack and smiled.

"Can you imagine how beautiful that house used to be? I bet it has like a hundred rooms."

"Actually, there are only about fifteen, but they are rather large. Dreadfully drafty though," he commented under his breath.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. Noting at all."

"You know what, Professor? You are really easy to talk to. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"No."

"Well, you are. At least when you aren't yelling or getting angry with me that is. It's really nice to have someone to talk to."

"Quite."

"Hey, what do you say to some ice cream. My treat! My way of saying thank you for tolerating me for the day. I usually get really lonely on these visits. Not today though. Thanks, Professor."

Snape didn't say a word. He watched as Armina began to walk away, inner turmoil threatening to drown his senses. Why were his thoughts so distorted by confusion? He couldn't shake the strange feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.

"Professor Snape? Are you coming?"

Snape snapped back to reality abruptly. Armina stood feet from him, her gorgeous eyes boring into his dark soul. He shook off her gaze and looked back at the Shrieking Shack. _Why does it feel wrong to talk at her?_

"Professor?"

"Go on," he spat. "Get out of here."

"Aren't we going to get ice cream? If you don't want any, that's fine. We could go do something else." She took a few steps toward him, but Snape turned his back on her.

"Do what you want. Leave me alone."

"Are you all right, Professor?"

"I said be gone!" he growled, turning back to her. He sneered at the concern on her face, the lump in his stomach growing by the second. _It seems like a sin to even look at her?_ "_Stop looking at me like that!_"

"Professor Snape, why are you pushing me away? Is it that hard for you to talk to anyone?"

"_I said get out of my sight!_"

Armina began to back away. "All right, Professor, but I'm not going to leave you alone. You need someone to talk to more then I ever imagined, and I am not going to abandon you!" A fiery passion washed over her face. "_Do you hear me?_ I am _not_ abandoning you!"

Snape was completely stunned. No one ever spoken to him in such a manner. He had no idea how to react. He watched her retreat, his heart pounding against his chest. _What is this feeling that she gives me? I've never felt like this before. Why do I feel this way? Is it her? Is it Armina?_ His thoughts stalled. He had called her Armina, not Wilkins, not girl, but Armina. Suddenly, his mind felt dreadfully unclean. _How does she do this to me? What is this feeling?

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_

**A/N:** No real changes to this chapter, which was nice. It means I can get to bed sooner. It's 12:48am and insomniac Chevious has one more chapter edit before moving on to something new, or going to bed, which ever comes first. I finally figured out what the hell I've been listening to while editing. It's _Inu-Yasha - The Movie 2 - The Castle Beyond the Looking Glass_. I've seen it a few times and the end makes me feel all good. Anyway, on to the next chapter. Review please. I've been doing French all day and it's quite nice to read English.


	8. This Should Be A Sin

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the invention of Ms. J.K. Rowling. I don't own the characters in any way, shape, or form. I do, however, claim Armina Wilkins, her family, random students, and the plot.

**A/N: **Hooray for Chapter 8! I must say, I received my favorite review soon after I posted chapter 7 originally. It was from Celesmoon and I got quite a kick out of it. Never have I had anyone tell me to "stop slacking off" and "go work". Very amusing! Thank you for that Celes. So, let's see, we left off with Snape brooding over his feelings towards Armina. Things start to get quite interesting in the next few chapters, but for now, let's stick to this one, shall we? A chapter that completely focuses on Snape! Isn't it grand! Now, for your reading pleasure, I present to you Chapter 8 of _Dismal Photographs of Yesterday_. Enjoy! (bow)

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**Dismal Photographs of Yesterday**

_Chapter 8: This Should Be A Sin

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_

Snape sat at the bar of the Three Broomsticks, swirling the glass of Fire Whiskey in his hand. He stared blankly at the wall of liquor before him, completely lost in thought. Madame Rosemerta eyed him suspiciously. He hadn't moved in at least an hour, and it was beginning to worry her.

"Can I get you anything else?" she questioned.

He promptly tipped back his glass and swallowed the remainder of his alcohol. "Yes," he stated, pushing it toward her.

"If you don't mind me asking, is something bothering you, Severus?" she asked as she refilled his glass.

He looked up at her skeptically, mulling over the prospect of hearing her advice on the matter. _What could it hurt? All I have to do was beat around the bush, right?_ He took a sip of the whiskey she placed in front of him before beginning.

"I do have a rather interesting dilemma. I suppose you could help me."

"Sure I could." Rosemerta leaned against the countertop, ready to take in every word. "Fire away."

Snape let out a sigh a took another sip from his glass. "I know this woman. She's an intriguing individual, but she makes me crazy. Every time she speaks I feel as if I want to kill someone."

"Tell me about her, love," Rosemerta urged, seeming to hang upon every word.

"Well," he began, feeling slightly uncomfortable, "she's not much to look at: dull blonde hair, rather petite, loads of freckles. However, she has the most amazing pair of blue eyes. Looks aside, she's clumsy, nosy, quite forceful, and very careless, but quite brilliant. She knows how to read people. Doesn't give up on anything."

"Oh! I see where this is going!" she exclaimed happily. "Go on, dear. How did you meet?"

Snape's eyebrow raised. "Why am I telling you all of this again?"

"Because I am going to help you. Now, come then! How did you meet her?"

"She was clumsy. That's how I met her."

"Really! Well, what's the problem?"

"The woman makes me crazy! That's the problem! Weren't you listening to a word I've said? Every time I'm near her I want to kill someone. And that voice! Oh how I loathe that voice! It's always so-----cheerful." He sneered and took another swallow of the fiery liquid, pausing as it burned his throat unpleasantly. "Just looking at her makes me feel disgusting."

Rosemerta smiled. "Well, well, aren't we head over heels?"

"What in the world are you going on about?"

"Severus, dear, it's quite obvious that you're in love with the girl!"

"_What?_"

"Will you open your ears, man! You are in love with her!"

"No! That can't be! Most of the time I want to injure her! How can that be love?"

"Don't ask me, love. I just call what I see."

Snape stared at the remaining liquor in his glass. He downed it, and looked back up at Rosemerta. She was smiling like a giddy schoolgirl as she took his glass.

"I'm cutting you off, Severus. You're supposed to be setting an example after all."

"What in the world am I supposed to do?" he thought aloud, entirely unprepared for such a realization. "I can't be in love with her! It isn't possible!"

"Oh shut your mouth and face facts! You're infatuated with this girl!"

"How can you be sure?"

"How often do you think about her?" Snape was silent. "My point exactly. If you think about her all the time, you are obsessed. It's not healthy to keep those emotions inside you, you know. It can make you crazy."

He thought about it for a moment. _I have been very on edge since the beginning of term._ _It seems to make sense, but how could this happen? She is one of my students! It seems almost sinful! It can't be!_

"I don't love Armina!" he scolded himself under his breath. "I can't. No, it's impossible. It would never work, and it just can't happen. I don't love her!"

"Who are you trying to convince, love?" Rosemerta asked. "Me? Or Yourself?"

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**A/N:** So, the truth comes out. How delightfully problematic! So, now everything from here on out will be brand new. Thank you so much for your patience with me. Remember to review. They make me happy and give me a reason to procrastinate by writing a chapter. Just for you all, I think I'll crank out a new one before I go to bed. It's now 1:10am, so I hope it won't be too bad. 


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